


One Step Closer (To Saying What You Feel)

by mukuros



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Theatre, Azula (Avatar) Needs a Hug, Bisexual Disaster Sokka (Avatar), But She's Also A Dramatic Bitch, F/M, Gay Zuko (Avatar), It's Okay Though Cause I Get It, M/M, Mutual Pining, No Explicit Sexual Content, Recreational Drug Use, Rocky Horror Picture Show References, Slow Burn, Stage Manager Sokka, Theater kid zuko, Theatre Kid Zuko, Underage Drinking, and the answer is all of them theyre all theater kids, had to spell it both ways because it stresses me out choosing a spelling, i keep seeing people fight over who in avatar is a theater kid, idiots to lovers, its all of them - Freeform, similar to the question of who in avatar is lgbt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-31
Updated: 2021-01-19
Packaged: 2021-03-09 00:54:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 16,244
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27305896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mukuros/pseuds/mukuros
Summary: It's senior year, and Sokka is the stage manager/student director of his school's musical— and Zuko, who lives rent-free in Sokka's mind, has landed the male romantic lead. What could go wrong?
Relationships: Aang/Katara (Avatar), Minor Jet/Sokka, Sokka & Suki (Avatar), Sokka/Zuko (Avatar), Suki/Yue (Avatar), one-sided Jet/Zuko, past Katara/Suki, past Sokka/Yue
Comments: 41
Kudos: 96





	1. God I Hope I Get It

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After driving very normally— and not like a “madman” like some people would describe it (AND foregoing his typical morning Dunkin’ coffee run, thank you very much), Sokka finally pulled into his parking spot outside Kyoshi Memorial High School with nearly 10 minutes to spare.
> 
> In a split second, the side door opened without more than a rushed “byeSokkathankyougottagocastlist” to indicate that Katara had ever been there.

_The cast list._

The bane of every self-respecting theater kid’s existence. 

At least, that’s what Sokka understood from a non-actor’s point of view. As stage manager, he didn’t really get the issue— but his sister’s constant pacing upstairs was _definitely_ an indication that the lull in between final callbacks and the posting of the list was not an experience he’d necessarily been missing out on. 

“C’mon Katara! We’re gonna be late!” he yelled. Checking the time, Sokka noticed that it was well past 6:50. _Shit._ “We’re _really_ going to be late!”

—“Coming! Sorry!” Katara responded, practically jumping down the stairs before grabbing her lunch from the kitchen counter. “I guess I lost track of time.” Her phone lights up, and Sokka doesn’t even need to pry to know it’s a good luck message from Aang. _That kid was hopeless._ Sokka didn’t like the idea of his younger sister dating _anyone,_ but he supposed if it was going to happen eventually, he’d prefer it be Aang than any of the other sleazeballs that their school had to offer. He grabbed the keys and his lunch before jumping into his beat-up minivan. Katara had a wild look in her eye and was already drumming her fingers along the arm of the passenger seat. He supposed that this was her second to last chance to get a leading role— losing out on Cosette last year had really bummed her out— and while he loved his best friend more than anything, a little part of him had hoped that Suki would’ve gotten sick for a matinee so Katara could show everyone that she had learned her understudy role inside and out. 

“Nervous?” Sokka chuckled, hoping that his stating-the-obvious would quell her anxieties. 

“Yeah…” she replied. “I… guess you could say that.” 

“I’m sure it’ll be fine, sis. Bumi would be stupid not to see how insanely talented you are— and after today, everyone else will know it too.” Sokka wasn’t necessarily the best at comforting people, but at least he was trying. _Right?_

“Mhm.” Katara’s mumbling was more of an acknowledgment that Sokka had been speaking than an actual response to his words, and he could tell that she wasn’t listening. Glancing over, he saw her typing furiously into what could only have been described as the longest stress text he’s ever seen. It took not even a minute for a response— and apparently a good one, as Katara let out a breath that Sokka thinks even she didn’t know she was holding. 

“Better?”

“ _Slightly_ better.”

“Seems like ‘slightly better’ is the best we’re gonna get right now.”

“Yep.” She popped the “p” on the end of her word as Sokka sped through a yellow light. “And the worst we’re gonna get is when you get us arrested for your reckless driving— HEY!” Sokka slugged her in the arm with the hand that was not very loosely resting on the steering wheel. “What happened to being nice to me because I’m nervous?” Katara grumbled. 

“That was before you insulted my great driving! That’s an offense I can’t let go— It’s basically a hate crime!” Sokka scoffed. His sister rolled her eyes and went back to her phone, clearly more engrossed in her Instagram feed than _her own brother’s hurt feelings_. After driving _very normally—_ and not like a “madman” like _some people_ would _offensively_ describe it (AND foregoing his typical morning Dunkin’ coffee run, thank you very much), Sokka pulled into his parking spot outside Kyoshi Memorial High School with nearly 10 minutes to spare. In a split second, the side door opened without more than a rushed “byeSokkathankyougottagocastlist” to indicate that Katara had ever been there.

Strolling across the lot, he noticed similar energy from other members of the drama club as Ty Lee practically cartwheeled towards the door, with Azula and Mai not far behind. Azula, who seemed more on-edge than even Katara, walked with a purpose. Mai, emotionless as ever, seemed to be keeping a respectable distance from Azula— which made a whole lot of sense. Sokka wouldn’t want to be Bumi if she wasn’t given the leading role that she thought she deserved— teacher or not, Azula was _scary._

Lost in thought about the inevitable meltdown that would occur in approximately three minutes when the starring roles of _The Little Mermaid_ were made common knowledge, Sokka didn’t even notice that someone else was reaching for the door until he felt an unusual warmth covering his hand. Looking up, he found Azula’s brother staring straight at him. Sokka supposed the unconventional redness of the other boy’s face was his own personal response to the stress of the cast list. _Actors, am I right?_

“Zuko!” his voice cracked. “Don’t sneak up on me like that, man! You scared me!” 

“Sorry.” the dark-haired teen coughed as he scurried inside. Sokka felt a similar blush creep up his face as he watched Zuko turn the corner towards Bumi’s classroom— but decidedly for a _different_ reason. 

It’s not like Sokka expected to feel a kind of… _attachment_ to the boy. Sure, he had known him in the past, and sure, he wasn’t _ugly_ — Sokka knew when to appreciate anyone’s attractiveness, whether they be male or female. But when watching auditions, something _changed._

Sokka couldn’t quite put his finger on exactly why, but the second Zuko opened his mouth to sing the 32-bar cut of whatever smooth tenor melody he had chosen in the style of Alan Menken’s mid-to-late 80s discography, his mind short-circuited. 

He could no longer focus on whether or not the boy could hold a tune— it was now only the way his hands moved to accentuate the emotion in the piece or the way the lighter streaks of brown in his dark hair were even more prominent under the blinding stage lights and _how good it would feel to run his hands through it and—_

Sokka walked into the wall. 

_Ouch. That’s what you get for daydreaming in the middle of a school hallway._ Opening his phone camera, he could already see a small bump rising on his forehead. _Great_. He barely even had time to put his phone back in his pocket before a blur of blue and white came hurtling full throttle to squeeze the life out of him. Looking down at his sister, Sokka felt the dampness of tears soaking into his shirt.

“Katara? What’s wrong? Is the list up?” He phrased his words very carefully. She looked up, eyes still brimming with tears— and broke into an expression that radiated happiness.

“I got it. I got Ariel!” She burst into sobs again— at least this time, Sokka knew that it was a happy kind of crying. He pressed a kiss to the top of her head and hugged her back. 

“I’m proud of you, kid. Wanna go tell Dad?” Sokka questioned. Sniffling, Katara nodded. 

“Can we check the rest of the list first? I kinda just saw my name, double-checked to make sure that it was my name and not ‘Katara (understudy),’ and blacked out before running to tell you, and I promised Aang that I—” 

Sokka cut her off. “Of course. After all, I gotta see who Bumi thought was good enough to be in the presence of my kid sister, _the_ Little Mermaid herself. And also who I have to yell at when we start running the show with full sets and blocking.”

The crowd surrounding the drama bulletin board had all but died out, save for a few freshmen, so it was relatively easy to get a peek at the sheets of paper adorned with the cast of the upcoming production.

**KMHS PRESENTS DISNEY’S** **_THE LITTLE MERMAID_ **

**CREW**

**Student Stage Manager/Student Director:** Sokka

_That, he knew._

**Assistant Student Director:** Aang

Oh _shit._ Did this mean Aang wasn’t going to get to play Prince Eric? Poor kid had been working on the audition cut almost non-stop since the show was announced last spring. Sokka had known of actors who ADed shows with fairly significant roles in the past but never had seen the male lead take on another heavy commitment like directing before. He sighed, hoping for the best for the kid, and continued on. 

**  
****Tech Crew Chief:** Longshot

_Makes sense._ The man was a wizard at lighting design and it was his senior year— good for him. 

**Spot 1:** Smellerbee

_Also makes sense._ She had done spots last year and actually managed to light the people that she was supposed to at the correct time— a rarity in the local high school theater scene.

**Spot 2** : The Duke

Sokka was gonna be honest— he had no idea who this was. But considering he was on spotlight duty, it was more likely than not that he was just some random freshman. Hopefully Smellerbee could train this kid well enough to ensure Katara wouldn’t be singing in the dark. 

**Stage Crew Co-Chiefs:** Toph (Construction/Blocking Chair), Mai (Design Chair)

_That’s… odd, to say the least._ Stage crew chief, at least for the entirety of Sokka’s high school experience, had always been a one-person job. But he supposed that Toph couldn’t handle it all by herself— not because of her disability (though that would’ve made it slightly more difficult to paint accurate scenery), but because they were fairly busy being the reigning state wrestling champion AND whipping the rest of the school’s team into good enough shape to rank nationally. That kid was a BEAST— Sokka would’ve hated to get on their bad side. He wondered if the two would get along— while he didn’t know Mai outside the context of her upper-class quartet of eerily attractive teenagers, she seemed rather… dispassionate. And Toph was decidedly… very passionate. Sokka supposed he’d just watch this one play out as it happened. 

**Head of Costuming:** Yue

Sokka wasn’t surprised. Yue had been head of costuming since sophomore year when she sent in a portfolio of some of the most _elaborate_ dresses Sokka had ever seen as an application. As if she already didn’t have enough credibility already, being president of the fashion design club _and_ having sewn the entire colorguard’s uniforms herself when the budget got slashed. 

**Student Choreographer:** Suki

This he knew as well— everyone had been shocked when Suki had chosen not to audition for Ariel (which she was a shoo-in for— everyone knew Bumi picked the show specifically for her) and decided to choreograph instead. She was a super talented dancer, and the routines she wrote for the cheer team certainly proved that, but her turns as Wednesday Addams and Cosette Fauchelevent as a sophomore and junior respectively spoke to her blinding talent. She had made the conscious choice to step down rather than letting senior year stress get the best of her, and Sokka trusted her judgment. College musical theater auditions seemed to be stressful enough even _without_ including the fact that she was both cheer captain and student council president. 

**CAST**

**Ariel** ….Katara

He’d never admit it out loud out of fear of being teased mercilessly for the rest of his life, but seeing her name confirmed made Sokka giddy with excitement. Stage managing his senior show with his baby sister as the leading character? He’s glad they could share this experience together before he goes off to god-knows-where for college next year. She deserved it, too. Not only had she been working at the grocery store all summer to pay for her voice lessons, but she’d also fixed up their mom’s old roller skates and was able to pull off some shit that Sokka didn’t even think was possible to accomplish on a set of wheels.

**Sebastian** …. Haru

Aside from the _massive_ crush that Katara had on him freshman year, Sokka didn’t know much about this kid— but it seemed like he was nice enough. Maybe he’d shave that hideous goatee he’d grown over the summer so the red face paint wouldn’t look as weird under the stage lighting. Even better, maybe Sokka could force him to shave it. It just really wasn’t doing him any favors. 

**Flounder** …. Aang

_Oh, man… that one had to have hurt._ Aang had first period with Bumi, so when Sokka had peeked over, he was already in there, sitting on Bumi’s desk in what seemed to be a tense discussion. Aang looked… upset, to say the least. He was whispering in an uncharacteristically forceful tone to Bumi, eyebrows furrowed. Typically, you’d never see that type of attitude between a teacher and his student, but Aang and Bumi had a different kind of relationship— Aang had known Bumi practically his whole life, and they were actually kind of… friends? Not wanting to pry, Sokka looked away as Bumi put his hand on Aang’s shoulder before bringing him into a hug. 

**Scuttle** …. Teo

_Good for him._ Teo had been in an accident a few years back and lost the use of his legs, but was still one of the most positive and upbeat kids that Sokka’s ever known. He’s happy that the sophomore got such a goofy role— it suits him. 

**King Triton** …. TBD Staff Member

Every year, the director of the musical picks one staff member to play an adult role in the show to increase students’ willingness to buy tickets— in _Les Mis_ last year, the pottery teacher, Iroh, had knocked it out of the park as the bishop— and as one of the school’s most beloved staff members, half of the audience was basically only in attendance to see him have a blast up on stage. Sokka wondered who it would be this year. 

**Mersisters** … The Kyoshi Warriors (Specifics TBD by Suki once rehearsals begin)

It initially had been controversial to cast the school’s cheer team in six of the eleven female roles available, but Suki had insisted— it would be much easier to choreograph _She’s In Love_ when the mersisters had prior roller skating training from their routine for regionals last year, and three of them had been in the musicals already. This way, the choreographers and dance captains could focus on helping the leads get acquainted with the skates. 

**Ursula** …. Ty Lee (Th/F/SN), Azula (Sat Mat)

[Off night Ursula will be on costume duty and provide backing vocals for eels]

_Ty Lee? The beam of pure positivity and sunshine? As Ursula?_ Sokka guessed that she really must’ve blown her audition out of the water, because everyone thought that Azula had been a shoo-in for this part. Bitchy, acting-centric, doesn’t have to dance a ton? It was like it was written for her. Azula still would perform the role on the matinee show, but everyone in the cast and crew knew getting the matinee was basically the same thing as being a glorified understudy— barely any practice time, constantly compared to someone who everyone else deems better than you, and performing for a crowd of the local retirement home and very little else. _Woof,_ Sokka thought. _I would_ ** _not_** _want to be Ty Lee when Azula got this news._ He knew they were best friends, but Azula was… expectant. And dramatic. _Very_ dramatic. He’ll just say that if Ty Lee was found missing in the next 24 hours, he’d know who the prime suspect was. 

**Flotsam** …. Mai

While it was appropriate that Mai’s role was one who never strayed from Ty Lee and/or Azula, Sokka felt bad that she would be the one dealing with the fallout of whatever was about to erupt from the Ursula double-casting controversy. 

**Jetsam** ….Jin

Sokka was sure that Jin was a very nice person, but he didn’t know her that well. What he _did_ know, however, is that she worked at the boba shop across the street from the movie theater, and she had to handle him and Suki a few times when they were… _not particularly in their right mind,_ so to speak _._ Poor girl. He wouldn’t want to be on the other end of that particular transaction. 

**Grimsby** …. Jet

_Great._ After a freshman year in which Sokka swore up and down he didn’t have a crush on Jet, (he swore, guys, he didn’t, he couldn’t be gay… he liked _girls_ ). Sokka had gotten his heart broken by the sophomore. I mean, how could he have known that Jet was just using him to get closer to Katara? 

As always, Katara was smarter than he was, and turned Jet down in a heartbeat— but the fact remained that the douche was a presence in every single acting class, talking over the teacher because some summer acting conservatory taught him _everything he needs to know about theatrics_ and _you people wouldn’t understand the complexity of this type of art._

_Worst bisexual realization_ ** _ever._ ** Sokka was glad that he only got a small part. That total jerk didn’t deserve more than that. _Even if he was incredibly captivating as Enjolras last year._

**Carlotta**... Yue

Okay, so _maybe_ Sokka had left out the fact that he and Yue dated for three years. But it was middle school, and that was purely a cringy first crush/first love situation that neither of them would like to acknowledge. They were still friends and talked on occasion, but she was obviously very busy with other things and Sokka fully understood that. It was cool that she was in the cast this year! Maybe they could see each other more often and catch up. 

**Chef Louis** ….Suki

_Oh… neat!_ Sokka was glad she got a part, albeit a small one; it was their senior year, after all. _Why didn’t I think of this beforehand?_ Of _course_ Suki could pull off a stereotypically male/tenor role... she could pull off anything. Sokka was in awe of his best friend and amazed at her talent every single day. 

  
  


There was only one more name adorning the cast list. 

**Prince Eric** …. Zuko

I mean, he could have guessed it. He _should_ have guessed it, considering how it was quite literally the most captivating performance Sokka has ever seen and it was only a 32 bar cut. But if Zuko played Prince Eric, then that meant his little sister… would be kissing the guy he liked. Multiple times. Probably multiple times a _day._

_That’s...fine. Everything’s fine. Everything’s cool except now he’s… gonna only think of me as the ‘brother of that girl he played opposite in his senior show.’ Great. Cool. Love to see it._

Sokka wasn’t panicking at all. After all, Zuko probably didn’t even like boys. Wasn’t he in some weird thing with Mai? He honestly couldn’t tell— Zuko, Azula, Ty Lee, and Mai never seemed to leave each other’s sides. 

Not that he checked if they left each others’ sides or anything. 

Only after Zuko crossed by the list again, the slightest inkling of a smile crossing his lips, did Sokka snap out of his state of contemplation. With a rush of confidence that seemed to come out of nowhere, Sokka grabbed the boy’s shoulder and stopped him before he could get any farther down the hallway. 

“Congrats on the part, buddy! Maybe we should start calling you _Prince_ Zuko!” he quipped. 

Sokka saw the boy’s eyes widen as an awkward...smile (?) started to form. 

“Thank you, Sokka. I’m- I’m really glad I got it.”

_That might’ve been the most genuine thing Zuko’s ever said,_ Sokka thought to himself, with the afterthought of _and you got him to say it_ not far behind. 

He hoped he wouldn’t ruin the moment. But of course, his big mouth had to go out and do it anyway.

“Make sure not to break my little sister’s heart, alright?” He grinned through the embarrassment of his words— he could’ve said _anything,_ but he chose to _give Zuko an open invitation to date his sister._ Zuko’s eyes look like they’re going to pop right out of his head, and he blushes redder than he was this morning. 

“I… uh…. I have to go. Thanks again.” Zuko stammers out before turning and _booking it_ to his first class of the day. After what seemed like eons of watching him leave, Katara, still waiting, quirks an eyebrow at him.

“Whatever it is that you’re thinking… stop it.” Sokka rolls his eyes. She may _definitely_ have caught on to him already (after five days? really?) but he wasn’t going to let her get the satisfaction of knowing that she’s right. “Just go and tell dad. He’s gonna be so proud of you, Katara.” He left out half of his thought— but the ‘ _Mom would’ve been so proud of you, too’_ hangs in the air between the two siblings. With a determined nod, Katara set off down the hall to Hakoda’s classroom. He barely even notices Aang, who has apparently since concluded his conversation with Bumi, wistfully watching her leave until he’s about to go himself. 

“Hey, buddy. How’re you feeling?” Sokka gives a weak smile— he knows it's not enough, but he’s gonna damn well try as hard as he can to lift Aang’s spirits. 

“Gonna be totally honest here, Sokka. Not great. It’s not that I don’t _love_ Zuko, he’s one of my best friends! It’s just…” he breaks off into a frustrated sort of groan. “He’s going to be up there _every day_ just smiling at her and laughing with her… and I have to _WATCH?_ ” 

_Oh, I understand perfectly, buddy._

Rather than expose himself, Sokka feigned offense. “Are you saying that directing isn’t going to be the best time you’ve ever had in a theatrical production? I’m wounded, Aang. I’m truly hurt.” noticing the look on his face, Sokka quickly added “Kidding! Kidding. I know that it must be tough not to get the part you wanted.” 

“Thanks. I mean, I’m sure Flounder will be fun! He’s like, the third or fourth biggest guy part, and it totally makes sense especially cause I’m only a sophomore, and Zuko’s a senior, and completely objectively, very much the attractive princely type, and I’m like a head shorter than Katara, and she’d never think of me like that, and…” 

Sokka has to stop him before it gets any worse.

“Earth to Aang. You in there, pal? You’re rambling again.”

“Oops, you’re right. Sorry about that!” Aang replied as the bell rang out. _Shit._ Sokka was halfway across the school from his first-period class and would have to book it if he wanted to get to Piandao’s room before the five minute grace period was up. 

Aang knew this as well and called out to him as Sokka jogged down the hallway.

“Hope you make it in time! See you at rehearsals tomorrow!”

_Tomorrow. Right._

If today was any indication of how the next three months were going to go, Sokka was in for a wild ride.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi everyone long time no see! some quick things about characters/background:
> 
> -zuko, sokka, jet and suki are all seniors in high school (jet is actually a fifth year senior)  
> -katara, mai, ty lee, and azula are juniors  
> -aang and toph are sophomores (also toph uses she/they pronouns)  
> -bumi is the head of the school’s english department and directs the yearly musicals  
> -hakoda also works at the school as a history teacher
> 
> some quick show basics:  
> \- most iterations of the little mermaid are performed with the sea creatures wholly on roller skates so it looks like they're swimming!  
> \- the broadway soundtrack/ost of the little mermaid is slightly different from the movie, so i would advise listening to that at some point! (specifically the prince eric songs, part of your world (reprise), and she’s in love)


	2. Cute Boys With Short Haircuts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sokka and Katara have a fun dinner with their dad, and rehearsals for the show begin.

After a long day of aimlessly roaming the hallways and online shopping— _he was a senior, sue him for slacking off_ — Sokka heard the screech of the final bell ring out. Stuffing his laptop in his bag, he waved a quick goodbye to Madame Wu and headed down the stairs and out towards his car. Katara was already there, leaning against the locked passenger door with her arms crossed. 

“Hurry up! We’re gonna get caught in the traffic if we don’t leave soon!” She called. He knew she had a point— the post-school rush of a bunch of newly-licensed teenagers trying to make it home (or to the local gas station) was ruthless. If you were even two minutes behind the crowd, you’d be trapped in an endless cycle of nearly missed fender benders for a half hour. 

“I’m coming, I’m coming, jeez!” Sokka replied lightheartedly, despite Katara pulling on the door handle time after time as if to continually prove that the car was not yet open. He fiddled with his keychain until he located his car keys, and pressed the “unlock” button to let Katara in. She smiled and he threw his bag in the back before settling into the drivers’ seat. Keys in the ignition, Sokka began to drive.

“So… how was school?” he asked, hating the sound of silence.

“It was great! I told dad, and _obviously,_ he was ecstatic. He kept saying how happy and proud he was of his kids for being the two most important people in the whole production—”

“He needs to _stop_ saying that, some kid is gonna overhear and get the wrong idea.” Sokka swerves to hastily cut in front of a blue coupe as he speaks, and a high-pitched horn sounds from behind them. “Sorry!” he yells out the cracked window. The kid driving gives a curt nod, more of a _at-least-I-don’t-have-to-pay-for-damages_ than a _you’re forgiven,_ and Katara continues.

“He _knows_ that, Sokka. Can’t you let him brag about us for just once?” 

“It’s all well and good until Bumi gets a phone call from the administration saying a parent complained that the lead and the student director of the school play were talking about how no one else matters and it’s _exclusionary_ to _assume things about the people who are in different roles_ — stop laughing! It literally happened to Suki last year when she said she was the only person who could consistently hit the high Bb!”

“But she _was_ the only one who could hit it!” Katara exclaimed.

“Exactly. But no matter how much truth there is to your statement, someone’s gonna complain about how unfair it is. That’s just how theater works, baby sister.” 

Katara sighed in resignation. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. We’ll tell dad that later.”

A few turns and a few run-through yellow lights later, Sokka found himself yawning as he reached for the garage door opener that had been clipped to his overhead visor. _Right. The whole “no-coffee” thing._ He put the car in park and went inside, collapsing on his bed the second his body made contact with the dark comforter. His eyes began to droop as he dozed off into what he hoped was a solid afternoon nap.

* * *

The nap would go on for a bit longer than Sokka expected, because when the flash of his phone screen woke him up, it was well past 6:00 and Hakoda was texting to let him know that dinner was already on the table. Stretching, he felt the crack of his neck as he moved it side to side and set up towards the kitchen. The aroma of freshly cooked seafood permeated the air, and Sokka could feel himself salivating. His dad, upon noticing his appearance in the room, grinned warmly. 

“Hey, kiddo! Hope you had a nice rest— we’re having good ol’ surf ‘n turf tonight in recognition of Katara’s big day.” Hakoda beamed. 

“Aw, Dad, thank you!” Katara’s voice came from out of nowhere and Sokka jolted aside— apparently, being talented enough to land the lead in the school show _also_ meant she was talented enough to sneak up behind him without him being any the wiser. “You didn’t have to do all this!”

“Don’t even start, Katara. I wanted to, trust me.” Hakoda replied, setting the dish down on an old potholder from their cabinet. 

Sokka poured glasses of water for the three of them and took them to the table while Katara grabbed silverware and napkins. Sitting down, Sokka grabbed the biggest piece of steak he could— Katara was more a fan of the lobster part, anyway— and tore in. If his father was anything, it was a great chef, and tonight was no exception. The meat was perfectly cooked, and Sokka could feel the flavors melting in his mouth.

He spoke while he was still chewing. “Dad, not to be overdramatic, but, _mmm,_ this might have been the best thing I’ve ever eaten. _”_

Katara looked over at him, with steak sauce dripping down his face, and gave him a grossed-out look. 

“While I am not an _animal_ like Sokka is” she began. “I do agree— this is awesome.” 

Hakoda laughed heartily as Sokka stuck his tongue out in response, causing some residual steak sauce to dribble down his shirt. _Well, at least I’m not going anywhere else today._

“What can I say— it was a cause for celebration!” Hakoda said. “Plus, I’ve got some news of my own to divulge.”

Sokka quirked his head up as he shoveled mashed potatoes into his mouth. _What kind of news?_ He was about to ask himself when Katara spoke up.

“You’re not… dating anyone, right Dad? Because I thought we agreed that you were definitely not ready after last year’s debacle.” Sokka was reminded of a point sometime during his junior year coming home from school only to discover his father in the ugliest Hawaiian shirt known to man and his hair pulled up into the world’s most _eccentric_ man bun. _Nope, not dealing with first-date Dad again,_ he mentally decided. 

Hakoda laughed. “Oh no, nothing like that— I wholly agree with you there.” A collective sigh of relief came from his kids as he continued on. “When Katara got the role, I started thinking about how proud I was of her for being the lead when she was so young. And then I realized that you _weren’t_ young anymore. You’re a junior, and Sokka’s a senior, and in two years it’ll just be me in this big house all by myself.” Sokka appreciated the sentiment, but didn’t quite understand where his father was going with this whole spiel. 

“And I decided I wanted to spend as much time with my kids as possible before they left me to do bigger and better things.” Still not understanding his meaning, Sokka looked over to see Katara tearing up. It _was_ heartfelt, after all. 

“So I went to Bumi’s room this morning.” 

Any and all emotion was wiped from Katara and Sokka’s faces alike as their jaws dropped in unison.

“No… oh no…” Sokka whispered.

“Dad,” Katara said solemnly. “ _Please_ tell me you didn’t.”

“And he told me I’d be _perfect_ for the role of King Triton, so I accepted!” Hakoda smiled at his two less-than-enthusiastic children. 

Sokka was _mortified. No fucking way_ was his _DAD_ going to be in _the only extracurricular activity that he even participated in._ It’s not that he didn’t love him— it’s just that he didn’t need him hanging out with his _friends._ Sokka couldn’t even begin to think what the other kids in the show would think of his dad— if they thought _his_ jokes were corny, just wait until they had a single conversation with Hakoda. Peering past his hands, which were covering his face, he saw Katara exhibiting a similar mix of panic and embarrassment. 

“Have you ever even been in a show before?” Katara asked. “I mean, I know that mom did, and I’m not doubting that you’ll do well, but what _qualifications_ do you have?”

“I mean… I do have roller skating experience.” Sokka’s mind flashed back to a particular picture of his dad and Uncle Bato from the 80s in matching head-to-toe neon outfit with flame-decaled roller skates that he’d rather never think of again. “And anyway, how could I pass up an opportunity to star alongside my little girl?”

Relative radio silence comes from the two teenagers. Sokka’s preferred method of avoiding further conversation was to focus solely on eating the delicious meal in front of him. Even if it was bribery for forgiveness of _ruining his senior show_ , it was damned good. 

Finally, after what seems like an eternity, Hakoda broke the silence. “Mom would’ve loved this, you know. The three of us all working together on this show— she’d be front row center every night.”

_Oh._ Sokka knew he was right. Katara’s face softened, and he could tell that Hakoda’s heart was in the right place. _Fuck it,_ he thought. _Let’s do this. Senior show with my dad. Let people laugh— you don’t know how much time you have with your parents until it’s too late._

“She’s still going to be. Wherever she is, she’ll be right there on opening night. Watching _all_ of us.” 

Katara agreed. “Dad, I’m so sorry we reacted poorly. It was just kind of a shock. I’d be honored for you to yell at me not to run around with strange boys on stage just as much as you do off.” Hakoda laughed, his eyes crinkling at the corners. All was well again, and Katara and Hakoda resumed eating their food— they, unlike Sokka, had preferred not to talk while chewing. As he cracked the shell of his second lobster, he had a terrifying thought. 

“Aw man, are they going to make you be shirtless?”

“If the costume department so chooses.” Hakoda chucked as Sokka groaned. 

”I’m going to die. I’m actually going to die of embarrassment. It’s going to happen. Use a good picture for my obituary… let Suki pick it, she knows my good angles.” 

Katara rolled her eyes. “Stop being so dramatic.” 

“Are you telling me you’d be okay with Yue telling dad to walk around shirtless for a week straight?”

“Not particularly… but Yue wouldn’t do that.”

“Wouldn’t she?” Sokka questioned. Katara’s face twisted into one of horror, and the two went back to silently praying that their friend would show a shred of decency for their sake. The remainder of the dinner was gone within the hour, with Sokka finishing up any chance they had of eating leftovers the next day. He said goodnight to Hakoda and headed back down the stairs, pulling out his phone to see if he missed anything important.

**No New Messages**

_Really? Geez,_ He thought there’d at least be _one._ Either way, he had to break the news that Hakoda was going to be in the show to _someone,_ so he clicked on Suki’s name and began typing.

**Sokka**

you’ll never guess what just happened at dinner

**Suki**

you got third-degree burns from a bowl of soup again?

**Sokka**

that was literally one time

**Sokka**

but no

**Suki**

you told your dad you were bi?

**Sokka**

no not yet

**Suki**

katara told your dad she was bi?

**Sokka**

what

**Suki**

what

**Sokka**

katara’s bisexual?

**Suki**

i have no clue what could have happened at your dinner. what is it?

**Sokka**

my dad is in the fucking play

**Suki**

NO FUCKING WAY

**Sokka**

HE’S KING TRITON

**Suki**

HAHAHA I CAN’T BELIEVE IT 

**Suki**

YOU’RE JOKING

**Sokka**

i KNOW he dropped that bomb like it was NOTHING

**Suki**

i have one question tho and you can’t be mad that i’m asking

**Sokka**

ok? shoot.

**Suki**

… is he gonna be shirtless?

**Sokka**

i’m literally blocking you

**Suki**

:P

* * *

Sokka was jolted out of his sleep when the opening chords of Justin Timberlake’s _Rock Your Body_ began to play. _Ugh,_ he thought. _There’s no fucking way that was 6 hours of sleep— it felt like 3, max._ Yawning, he flicked on the lights and rolled himself out of bed to throw on deodorant. At least it was still warm out— that way, he’d be able to just pull any random pair of shorts and tank top out of his dresser and still look presentable. After doing just that, he unplugged his phone to take it to the bathroom to brush his teeth. The screen flashed once more as a notification illuminated his face. 

**You Have (1) New Message**

_This early? That’s weird._ Sokka typically woke up before most of his friends on school days, _even the ones who somehow had enough time to do their hair and makeup and still end up getting to first period with ten minutes to spare_ , as Suki liked to remind him. _Hey,_ he thought. _A man needs his caramel iced coffee._ He tapped the home button. 

  
  


**Bumi**

Sokka, I don’t know if you’ve checked your email recently, but I’m sending this text to remind you that it’s your job to hand out scripts this morning. I expect to see you in my room at 6:55 this morning to help with setup.

Sokka blinked at the message.

How the _fuck_ is he already behind on his job? Rehearsals hadn’t even started yet. He supposed he was going to have to rush into school a second day in a row. Taking a swig of mouthwash, he gargled it around in his mouth as he simultaneously threw his hair up into a quicker version of his signature ponytail. _After all, what kind of guy would he be if he wasn’t consistent in his brand?_ Spitting the contents into the sink, he called upstairs:

“KATARA?”

The response was instantaneous. “DID YOU FORGET THAT YOU HAD TO BE IN EARLY TODAY?”

“MAYBE.”

“Well, lucky for you, I’m already ready to go when you are.” Her voice echoed throughout the basement as she walked into Sokka’s room, fully dressed, and done whatever hair-loopy-magic she performs every morning. “I remembered that last year we had to drive Suki in so she could pick her script up… so I just assumed that it’d be the same this time.”

Sokka groaned. “ _Why_ do you have to have _basic memory retention skills?”_

“ _Someone_ in this family has to.” Katara teased. “C’mon, grab your bag and let’s get moving. I’ll be fine with being there early as long as I have enough time to start reading my lines.” 

Sokka obliged, mourning for the coffee that he _knew_ he wasn’t going to have time to get today. _Maybe if we asked Aang?_ He hastily unplugged his laptop as he threw it in his backpack and bounded up the stairs. After flying to school in another impressive feat of driving (that Katara refused to accept as an impressive feat of driving), Sokka walked into the classroom. Bumi wasn’t at his desk, but Sokka figured that his executive privilege as student director would be cause enough to steal the scissors out of his top drawer and stab into the packaging tape that bound the flaps of cardboard together on the two large boxes that lay atop the front table. Sure enough, there were the scripts. Sokka rolled his eyes upon discovering that the licensing company had separated the scripts individually by character— each script was a varying size, and only contained the lines and scenes that featured the character the actor was playing. He immediately seized the three directors’ scripts and penciled his name on the inside cover of one before placing another on Bumi’s desk. The third one would be for the rest of the crew— he’d put it out for Mai and Yue to go over while the readthrough happened today. The next largest one was presumably Katara’s, so he pulled it out and threw it at her head while she was texting. _Not the best practice to get a return on the security deposit, but funny nevertheless._ He tore a piece of paper out of one of the notebooks from his bag, and after a few quick labels, slapped it on the desk in front of the table. 

“Here— grab a score from the other box and sign your name and the book number on this sheet.” Sokka yawned as he spoke, digging through the box to find the next sought script. “And take one for Dad, too. Here’s the one with his lines.” He handed the flimsily-bound book to Katara. “And now… we wait.” 

He looked up at the clock and groaned to see that it was only 7:05. There was no way he was going to survive the day without passing the _fuck_ out. Pulling out his phone, Sokka shot a hail mary.

**To: Aang**

**Sokka**

do you wanna be the best assistant director slash best friend ever???

**Aang**

Sure, what do you need?

**Sokka**

get me coffee?

**Aang**

Text me your order and I’ll grab it in 10

**Sokka**

large iced coffee 2 creams 2 sugars 4 pumps of caramel

**Aang**

It amazes me every single day that you haven’t gone into cardiac arrest.

While he was bored out of his mind telling every single person who walked in the same song and dance of telling them to write their name, role, and script number on the page, at least there was coffee to look forward to upon Aang’s arrival. With every opening of the door, he looked up in anticipation, hoping to see his little bald head peek around the corner. However, much to his chagrin, it seems like Aang was a little later than expected. 

He wasn’t sure whether it was his one-track mind focusing on his caramel-flavored caffeine fix or the fact that he now had to scramble to get everyone’s contact information because he forgot to put a column for phone number on the sign-up, but to say the least, Sokka was not at all prepared for what would transpire as the door creaked open in the middle of Haru’s so-so attempt at small talk. 

Zuko, apparently, had gotten a haircut.

Sokka hoped that no one noticed his jaw drop open at the sight. The black, silky hair that had been previously kept in a long ponytail had all but vanished, and it now fell in shaggy layers that fell just above his ears. What only could be described as bangs swept over his forehead, covering a fragment of the large scar that adorned the left side of his face. The slightest hint of a curl was evident in a way that Sokka had never picked up on before. _Did Zuko straighten his hair every single day?_ Sokka wondered. Maybe he should ask Aang— he would know, right? Right. Making a mental note to ask Aang in the _least suspicious way possible,_ he gazed at the boy who was now heading directly over to where he was. _Oh, right. The scripts._ Immediately, Sokka’s thoughts went into overdrive as he tried (and failed) to stop his cheeks from glowing a deep shade of red. He leaned back and pulled his face together in an awkward grin as he gazed up at the other boy. Zuko, who is quite evidently not used to being the center of attention, coughs as to clear his throat before flushing an almost matching pink. 

“Hey… can I get the, uh, the Eric script?”

“Yeah…” Sokka continued to stare. Zuko’s new hair was vaguely reminiscent of Jet’s— albeit a little bit shaggier and a _lot_ less straw-like. Either way, there was no doubt that he had a type. 

_Hey, Sokka?_ His inner monologue spurred up again. _You haven’t actually… you know, gotten the script from the box._

_Oh. Right._ Sokka wordlessly dove into the large cardboard container to check for one of the larger books, flipping through until he opened the cover with “Eric” stamped on the title page. Pulling it out, he grinned at the other boy. Zuko gave a half-smile in return, and a warmth spread from the deepest pits of Sokka’s chest. 

“Here you go! You’re gonna wanna grab a score from that box over there...” Sokka gestures to the still-full box that held the sheet music books as Zuko turned. “And when you’re finished, just sign the number of the score on that sheet of paper by Haru.” 

Honestly, he was _shocked_ that he could get through a full sentence without completely losing his _entire mind._ For the entire time he’s known Zuko, he’d had long-ass hair. As one of the few other men in the entirety of Kyoshi Memorial who has rocked a man bun many a time, Sokka figured it wasn’t odd to have noticed the sudden change… right? Looking around once more to ease his paranoia, he determined that _everyone_ seemed to notice— a thought which calmed him and sent him into a teeny fit of jealousy at the same time. 

_Sokka._ He said to himself. 

_Snap out of it._

_Is he not dating Mai? You need to respect his probable-relationship and stop looking at him._

_Seriously, stop looking at the way his slender hands delicately page through his script as he furrows his brow. Also, stop looking at the way that his turtleneck adheres to the contours of his body, extenuating his alarmingly-built physique. And it would help if you would stop wondering if his hair was still long enough to braid, even if you do think you could fit one or two in there if you really tried._

Luckily enough, Sokka is snapped out of his hot-boy-hair-braiding daydream when a pubescent voice cracks its way right behind him. 

“Hey, Sokka! Here’s your coffee!” Aang grins. _Thank GOD._ Grabbing the plastic cup, his gaze shifts from Zuko to the orange and pink straw he quickly unwraps and inserts into the slot in the center of the lid. 

“Coffee? Yes! Great. Thanks, Aang— how much do I owe you?” Sokka gulps down a few sips, feeling the sugary coolness glide down his throat as a sudden rush of adrenaline soared through his body. _Phew._ He needed that. Sokka quickly shook himself out, feeling the slap of his wolftail against the shaved sides of his head to wake him up a little more. 

“Don’t worry about it. I had a coupon!” Aang exclaims, bounding over to Katara. “I got you a donut, too! Strawberry frosting with sprinkles. Of course, you don’t have to eat it if you don’t want to, I just thought since you also were forced to come in early that you might not have eaten breakfast and…” he trails off. 

“Aang, that’s so sweet!” Sokka’s sister replies. “Strawberry is actually my favorite, I’d love to snag it if you wouldn’t mind.” Her cheeks were tinged pink. As Sokka slurped down a mouthful of pure sugar (he may or may not have forgotten to stir the drink to dissolve the add-ins), he wondered to himself if Katara and Aang realized that their feelings were more-likely-than-not mutual. 

_Glad I’m not that oblivious._

He thinks more about Zuko’s new haircut and feels a smile creep up his face.

He was _fucked._

* * *

The jarring ring of the final bell woke Sokka up from his twenty-minute French class nap, and Sokka could already see the horde of underclassmen pouring into the auditorium to wait for rehearsal to start. Of course, the actual practice didn’t start for another hour— Bumi liked to give a grace period for students to run home and change into appropriate dance clothes or grab food so they wouldn’t get irritable. _Smart._ Sokka remembered many a time where he sat in the audience absolutely _miserable_ because he forgot to pack enough food to sustain him until dinnertime. This particular period, however, would best be utilized for everyone to get their energy out before the show officially began. As he placed his bag down and plugged his phone into the communal crew charger, Sokka noticed that everyone in the large room seemed to be buzzing off the wall with excitement. Katara had not gotten more than five feet past the door before a gaggle of impressionable freshmen began singing her praises. Sokka isn’t sure how many more “you’re LITERALLY Ariel”s that she would be able to handle without losing her mind, and it was only the first day. He was excited for the day when the kids would fight over who got to bring her water in between scenes— and that _would_ happen. Suki had mentioned that the freshman had been doing it to her since she was a sophomore herself. Gazing to the other side of the seats, he noticed that Teo and Aang were loudly laughing at some video that Teo had pulled up. Aang beckoned for Sokka to leave the booth, and he obliged.

“Have you seen this video? It’s called ‘Ariel Needs Legs.’”

The door squeaked open yet again, revealing Zuko and Mai entering, pressed close together. Sokka tried his best not to roll his eyes at the sight. Even if they weren’t public with their probable-relationship, they were sickeningly cute together. Or, at least, Zuko was sickeningly cute and Mai was terrifyingly _not_ someone Sokka would ever want to compete with.

_Not that he was any competition to her in the first place,_ he sighed. Zuko’s arrival seemed to drive the masses’ attention away from Katara and towards the topic of his new haircut. Aang seemed to be the first one to speak out. 

“Zuko, I must say, I’m a big fan of this change. It _totally_ suits you!” He smiled, as genuine as ever. “What made you chop it?”

Mai snickered as a devious grin began to form. “Oh, he didn’t mention?” Aang shook his head. “The drama queen himself said at the beginning of the summer that if he got Prince Eric, he’d cut his hair to look more in-character.” She elbowed him in the side, eliciting a look of pure embarrassment from the dark-haired boy. “And once the cast list came out, Ty Lee and I wanted to hold him to that promise.” 

Sokka sure wasn’t going to complain that Zuko came in looking like the 2007-pop-punk guitarist of his dreams, but Mai’s disclosure of Zuko’s commitment to the KM Performing Arts Association seemed to egg on some of the other club members. Toph had laughed for what seemed to be five straight minutes, ribbing on Zuko for being the “biggest nerd [she’s] ever seen, and [they] can’t _see_ anything.” Katara offers him her best smile of reassurement and gives as awkward of a thumbs-up as one can give to a man that they’re about to spend the next three and a half months kissing. 

Zuko, on the other hand, averted his eyes from the growing horde. He grumbled out a miserable “you weren’t supposed to _TELL_ people that” to his girlfriend(?), covering his face in his hands. _God, it was cute,_ Sokka thought.

Aang, forever the saving grace of conversation, made an attempt to save Zuko from the depths of shame. 

“Don’t worry, hotman,” Sokka didn’t even want to _know_ what inside joke spurred that nickname. “If the amount of hair you have determines how much of a theater kid you are, then I’ve got it even worse than you!” he laughed, and the crowd seemed to disperse. Zuko whispered something to Mai, who let out a snort and playfully punched him in the arm. Sokka had never seen her smile before, so much as laugh, so that exchange had been a rather jarring scene. As if on cue to make this experience even worse, Jet strode up to the group, smirking flirtily at Zuko. 

“Nice cut, kid. You’re looking good.” Sokka briefly wished that some freak accident would deafen him so he wouldn’t have to witness the remainder of this conversation. But of _course,_ nothing ever went his way, and he had to endure the torturous ordeal of his ex-but-not-really-his-ex turning on the charm for the _one_ person that Sokka was interested in. He didn’t have much time to stew in his own distaste, because the next person to show up for rehearsal was his father, who had changed out of his school attire and looked more like Sokka would have seen him at home. Three underclassman girls giggled excitedly as Hakoda made his way to Katara to get his script, and Sokka could have _sworn_ one of them whispered the word “forearms.” _Ugh,_ Sokka thought. _This better not become a thing._

Some odd 10 minutes later, after Sokka has played the generic youtube vocal warmups over the house speakers, Bumi arrives and instructs the cast and crew to sit in the first few rows of seats. Sokka takes this as his cue and hops up to sit on the ledge of the stage next to his teacher. 

“Hello students, and welcome to rehearsals for _The Little Mermaid_! I’m Bumi, and I’ll be your director for the next few months unless I decide to keel over before closing night.” Bumi chortled at his own joke and gestures to his left. “And Sokka here will be assisting me. Whatever either one of us says goes, and if you have an issue you can reach out to one of us directly through email or text.” Bumi lowered his voice and whispered not-so-subtly to Sokka. “You did get their emails, right?” 

_Great. Put on the spot._

“Uh, no.” He stammers before announcing the next part to the general public. “But I will be creating a Remind101 to send out important updates to the entire cast and crew, and will be grabbing the leads’ information at the end of practice today. If you have a role or are a crew chief, please see me after the readthrough.” _Good job,_ Sokka reassured himself. _Professionalism at its finest._ Bumi shrugs and continues on.

“If you get out your books, we will be doing a table read of the script, scene by scene. When we get to a song, we will play the backtrack and the people with solos will be singing it to the best of their current ability. Crew, I want you taking notes the entire time. Any questions?”

A hand shot up almost immediately, and Azula began to speak before even being called on.

“Yes. What about Ty Lee and me? Who will be playing the role since those in charge of casting decided we should split it?” Her eyes narrowed, and Sokka could hear the venom in her tone even without factoring in her painfully-obvious sarcastic word choice. Bumi, a longtime veteran of the drama department, answered as if the answer was simple.

“Since Ty Lee has more shows, she’ll be the one doing this readthrough.” Azula’s face falls, and Sokka could’ve sworn he had noticed a hint of sadness flicker through the cycle of blatant disgust and anger. “However, you both are more than welcome to sing your songs together to get a feel for the timing of the track— it can be tricky, and you’ll want to be accustomed before we start running through.” 

Ty Lee reached over to pat her friend on the shoulder. Sokka was not an expert at reading lips, but he could make out the faintest semblance of “at least we get to sing together!” Mai, who flanked Ty Lee’s other side, rolled her eyes at Zuko, who stifled a laugh. It was wholesome, and Sokka silently sent a prayer to the powers above that he could be able to make him laugh like that one day. Sokka opened his script, fully prepared to commit to his starring role of reading-the-stage-directions-aloud. Typically, this was the job of the blocking chief, but seeing as Toph couldn’t exactly read, he happily volunteered to take their place. Sokka assured himself that his eagerness had absolutely _nothing_ to do with the fact that he would be reading all of the lines of the way Prince Eric was supposed to move his body and would, in turn, be _forced_ to imagine Zuko in these situations. Because it didn’t. He just was really passionate about stage directions.

Toph’s alternative job, it seemed, was to mock every single actor who pronounced a word even slightly wrong. While it was funny to hear her rip Jet apart for saying “notical” instead of “nautical,” Sokka feared for the sanity of the actors the remaining two hundred and fifty pages of script that they still had left to go. 

Sokka’s gonna be honest, he did not think that everyone referring to Zuko as a prince was going to do it for him. But here he was, wanting to implode every time that he heard the implication of royalty tumble from Jet’s lips.

_Fathoms Below_ sounded solid enough, and Katara’s rendition of _The World Above_ was absolutely angelic— Sokka wasn’t sure that it could improve; she could whip that out on opening night and it would be equally as captivating. And of course, he had done his duty as stage manager and watched the movie last week after keeping the OBC recording on repeat for three months. But what seemed to elude him was the apparent subplot that Flounder’s character was given for the high school version of the show. Aang opened his mouth to read his lines for the first time.

“I’m here now…” Aang reads, and Sokka gulped to announce the stage direction that came afterward. Breathing in, he went with it.

“A telling beat.”

“... with you.” Aang finishes. To make matters worse, Katara continued on as usual with her next line. 

“Flounder, you’re blushing… are you flirting with me?”

_YEESH._ To be fair, Katara-as-Ariel wasn’t wrong— Aang _was_ blushing furiously and looked like he wanted the ground to open up and swallow him whole more than he wanted to finish this rehearsal. _At least it was only one line,_ Sokka thought. _He has the whole rest of the show to get over it._

All the while, Ty Lee begins to read for Ursula and… _wow._ Sokka is absolutely blown away by the sheer force of her talent. He’d never have guessed that the sunshiney princess of all things pink could have played such a _damn good_ villain. Her tone is similar enough to blend the styles of Sherie Rene Scott’s Broadway-caliber vocals with Pat Carroll’s raspy evil inflection, and she manages to put a spin in the character that Sokka was not expecting. She’s manipulative, she’s condescending, yet still has a quality to her voice that makes her sound so much older than Katara’s Ariel— despite being her age in reality. The opening chords to _I Want The Good Times Back_ are played over the speaker, and Azula began to sing, evidently seeking to outshine Ty Lee. Unfortunately, she did not have the most trained vocal style, and in her attempt to sing louder, overexerted her vocal cords, causing all of her notes to fall a little off-color. Sokka wasn’t a musician, but even he could hear the clashing tones between the two actresses as their one-sided battle for dominance ensued. 

For those who were wondering, Aang did _not_ have the rest of the show to get over it. The writers of the _Little Mermaid_ stage edition had allegedly included multiple lines to insinuate Flounder had a crush on Ariel, much to the chagrin of the lovesick sophomore. Sokka audibly gasped when Aang had uttered the lines “I’d miss you if you were gone. Not in a dopey way. Not in a “crazy, hopeless, I’m-so-in-love-but-she-doesn’t-know-I’m-alive” kinda way. Not like that at _all_ .” It was just _cruel_ to put that kind of pressure on him. It wasn’t only Sokka in shock— he had snuck a fleeting glance at Zuko during that particularly agonizing phrase and saw the other boy wince as the words left Aang’s mouth. Luckily, Sokka had flipped through to ensure this was Flounder’s last scene for a while. At least the poor kid could rest before being put through the wringer again during his song.

It turns out that the other kids in the show did not think that Hakoda was the embarrassing father figure as Sokka and Katara had feared the night prior. Just the opposite, actually. His dad had opened his mouth to sing _The World Above (Reprise),_ which had not been as abysmal as he had expected, and Sokka had noticed at least half of the heterosexual female cast staring moony-eyed at him. _Gross._ Luckily, a familiar vibration from his pocket drove his mind away from the madness of his dad being _that_ history teacher. 

**You Have (1) New Message**

**Suki**

how did you turn out the way you did when you have half of HIS dna

He _hated_ her.

**Sokka**

shut the fuck up

The show continued, and if Sokka conveniently had to take a bathroom break during the big romantic climax between Ariel and Eric, there was nothing suspicious about it— a man’s gotta pee when a man’s gotta pee. Act two began with a rousing slurry of insults from Toph (“Teo, these words are FAKE. Tell me how you manage to say a word that doesn’t exist incorrectly.”), and a collective gasp from the company as Aang belligerently uttered another quip about Flounder wanting to kiss the leading lady which he had no chance with. Hearing the hurt in his friend’s voice, Sokka took a pause before reading the next stage direction to bring the matter to attention.

“Sorry to interrupt, but is anyone else getting _extremely_ weird vibes from the Flounder-Ariel one-sided romantic plot? I don’t want to overstep, but it’s just weird that he then proceeds to become Ariel’s fish brother in law at the end— all in favor of cutting it and making him just a really supportive friend?” Aang’s hand was the first to shoot up, and accompanying votes from Katara, Zuko, and a plethora of the Kyoshi Warriors followed. Bumi nodded at Sokka in approval, and that was that. 

“Alright, so for right now we’re going to strike all of those lines from the script; if you’re in any scenes with Flounder, I will send out the rewrites later this week.” 

Aang mouthed a silent “thank you,” and Sokka kept on reading to indicate the arrival of the seagull dancers as if nothing had changed. 

_Les Poissons_ , as expected, was fantastic. Suki did not miss a beat, and hit every note with perfect pitch all the while she braided the hair of the yawning Haru who had rested his head in her lap. Sokka knew he should be focusing on the comings and goings of the show and whatnot, but the braid turned out suspiciously good for someone who has never had her hair grow past her shoulders her entire life. He wondered when she’d learned it. The remainder of act two seemed to go swimmingly. 

_Mental note, use ‘swimmingly’ whenever a rehearsal goes well in the future._ Sokka chuckled to himself. _You can’t just keep that good of a joke inside._

_The Contest_ seemed to be a test of Sokka’s maturity, as he burst out laughing as soon as he realized that he had to read the words “another pounding” quite literally five times in a row. He would have made it a whole thing— that would no doubt elicit many groans of annoyance from his friends and giggles from the younger members of the cast, but one look at Hakoda told him otherwise. _No sex jokes with Dad there,_ he decided. It would be too weird _and_ most likely lead to a specific talk that he had actively evaded for the past six years of his life. 

Truth be told, the toughest bit came at the end. It wasn’t some overwhelming declaration of love between Katara’s Ariel and Zuko’s Eric or anything of the sort. He blinked at the page and read it again just to be sure— but there it was, plain as day. 

“The Mersisters and sailors enter. Flounder is there too, with Allana by his side… Ok, as a general note remember we’re cutting that plotline, so Allana will enter with the rest of the sisters, and Flounder will enter from stage right as the others emerge from stage left. Prince Eric and Ariel enter, dressed to marry. King Triton smiles at his daughter.” Hakoda flashes a cheesy smile at Katara, who rolls her eyes as she sings her reply. “Prince Eric turns to Grimsby and grins, and Prince Eric and Ariel then board the ship. Chef Louis enters with a cake, and then that’s it!”

They didn’t kiss.

_Prince Eric and Ariel didn’t kiss in the script._

Which made the next part so difficult.

Sokka wanted college admissions reps to see this production and be emotionally fulfilled with his co-directing choices, he really did. And that meant that they had to see a big romantic culmination— even if it didn’t explicitly state it in the script. Especially because the show ended in a wedding; _how are you going to have a wedding scene and not write in a kiss?_ Ugh. This _sucked._

“We’ll add an Ariel/Eric kiss here, and then… curtain! Great work, everyone!” 

He tried not to focus on the way Zuko’s eyebrows shot up. _He knew it was coming,_ Sokka thought. _Why did he look so surprised when I said it?_ He huffed.

“You’re all free to go. Make sure to pick up your trash on the way out— show some respect for the janitors!” Bumi gleefully dismissed the cast as excited chatter immediately picked up. Sokka picked up on a few of their conversations. 

Azula, always a ray of sunshine, immediately began discussing how _poor_ the casting of the production was and all that _she_ would have done to improve it. Turning to Zuko, she continued on. 

“You only got a lead because you’re a boy, you know. It’s much harder to get a big part if you’re a girl— which I did anyway, Zuzu.” 

Sokka tried to stay out of whatever residual family tension was about to occur and scooted closer to Jin and Yue, who were gossiping excitedly. 

“Mr. Hakoda’s deep voice is going to be the _death_ of me.” Yue giggled.

“I _know!_ I mean… he _is_ single, and I _am_ eighteen, so you never know.” Jin retorted back, sending Sokka into a state of nauseation. The general thirst for Hakoda was only going to get worse, he thought. _Gross._ Sokka, not wanting to hear any more sexual comments about his dad, or _any_ sexual comments about his dad in general, pulled his phone out of his pocket to check any snapchats that his friends may or may not have sent him during practice. 

Wait.

Phone. 

_Shit._

Yelling out to the rest of the auditorium, Sokka hoped no one had left yet. 

“All leads, student production staff, and committee heads, if you could come over here for just a moment, I need to grab your phone numbers so we’re all able to contact each other about important show information. Everyone else, please text @- like the little “at” email symbol- and then KMDrama to the number 810-10. That’s @KMDrama to 8-10-10. Thank you all!” 

Hakoda walked over to Sokka, who stopped him before he got ahead, instead handing his phone to Yue to enter her number. 

“Not you, Dad. Bumi or I can let you know whatever’s going on.” 

His father chuckled and held his arms up. “Okay, okay. I get it. I should let my kids have one thing without their dad barging in and talking to their friends in a group text.” Sokka was about to respond with something along the lines of “it’s not like that,” but then he realized _it was exactly like that._ Hakoda knew him too well. Yue had apparently passed the phone to Suki, who gave it back to him. 

“I’m gonna give you three days to change that god-awful contact photo of me just in case any screenshots are taken.” She warned. Sokka knew she wasn’t joking. Katara, Haru, Teo, and Aang butted their way in line and each put in their own information and passed it on to a group of the others. Next up was Azula, who had entered her, Mai, and Ty Lee’s numbers all in a row— of course, she had them memorized. And if those three had gone, then _that meant._

Zuko awkwardly scooched past his sister and her friends. 

“Hey,” he started. “I’ll just—” Zuko went to grab the phone out of Sokka’s hand, fingers just so much as grazing the tips of his, and a tingle went up Sokka’s spine. He knew this sensation was not mutual, as Zuko looked completely unaffected by the minor physical contact. Because that’s all it was— _minor physical contact. Nothing more._ He tried to catch his breath as the phone was handed back, but all he could think about was the phantom of Zuko’s hand on his. 

Sokka’s brain was sent into overdrive, and there was nothing he could do to stop it. He thought about Zuko and his _stupid sexy haircut_ and his _soft-ass hands_ as the remainder of the crew added their numbers to the group chat.

He thought about Zuko when he sent a basic “hey” text to confirm that everyone’s contact information went through.

He thought about Zuko while going 60mph on a road with a speed limit of 40. 

He thought about Zuko completing his pointless get-to-know-you homework assignments.

He thought about Zuko while eating dinner. 

And if he couldn’t stop thinking about Zuko until he went to bed that night, it was no one’s business but his own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Notes for this chapter!
> 
> -Sokka/Katara/Hakoda live on a 3 floored house. The top floor is Katara’s room/bathroom and the master bedroom/bathroom (which used to be Hakoda and Kya’s, but now it is obviously just Hakoda’s), the ground floor has the garage access and shit but also has the kitchen/dining room/living room area, and the basement has an area that is like another family room so it has a little bar and couch/tv setup but Sokka’s room and bathroom are also right there  
> -Yes, in the current script of Little Mermaid available for licensing they have replaced Good Times with a song called “Daddy’s Little Angel” but it is my favorite song from the whole ass show and I refuse to accept that it is gone.  
> -Sokka and Suki have auto caps off because they are Bisexuals and its in their DNA at this point  
> -I might mention at different points things Sokka’s looking to do in the future, but for posterity he’s applying to colleges for a double major in mechanical engineering and stage management because he’s insane  
> -also thank you to bree for proofreading love you


	3. Only Us

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Oh my god, Sokka, just text him already!”
> 
> Sokka feigned ignorance. “Text who?” 
> 
> “You’re really funny, did you know that?” Katara responded, not even needing confirmation to know what Sokka was getting at. “Just man up and send a text instead of staring at his contact card like a weirdo.” 

It’s thirty minutes before rehearsal time, and as usual, the lack of supervision has caused the auditorium to turn into an absolute madhouse of enthusiastic teenagers. Typically, Sokka would’ve joined Aang and Suki in doing whatever weird body slam move they were trying to learn from a YouTube video, but his phone had died in fourth period and was now restricted to as far as his charger could stretch until he could check to see if he had any important texts from Bumi regarding today’s practice. He sighed into his hands, looking over the monitors and lightboards out into the audience. 

After fifteen minutes of boredom, the small white apple logo appeared against the black of his screen, and Sokka nearly dove to type in his password. The messages came pouring in. _No wonder_ everyone seemed to be on the same text chain— because they _were._ Whatever it was was happening in the iMessage chat that he had made for the leads and crew. Scrolling, he checked the source of the commotion.

**little mermaid chat**

**UNKNOWN NUMBER**

hey everyone, i totally hate to do this, but could everyone text their names? i really hate when i have random numbers in group chats.this is ty lee, btw :)))

**Haru**

Haru :)

**Teo**

I’m Teo! 

**UNKNOWN NUMBER**

I know you already have mine, but for everyone else— I’m Mai. 

**Ty Lee**

who said i had your number? 

**Mai**

No one, but the thirteen unanswered texts you sent me in the past hour say that you most certainly do.

**Ty Lee**

hehe... you got me there :)

The messages seemed to stop there for now. Sokka figured he should do the mature thing and text his name.

But then again, what fun is that?

**little mermaid chat**

**Sokka**

i’m suki

**Suki**

i’m sokka

Looking up in surprise, Sokka saw his best friend giggle as they made eye contact. _Great minds, great minds._ He should’ve guessed that they’d text at the same time— they’re basically the same person at this point. 

**Sokka**

jk i’m actually sokka

**Suki**

^^ i’m actually suki

**Katara**

This is Katara!

**Sokka**

using your real name? no fun :(

**Katara**

Yes I am, asshole

**Sokka**

woah there, we got a potty mouth in the chat! watch out, everyone, i thought katara was ariel, but i guess she’s method acting as a sailor...

**Katara**

Can you shut up for ONE SECOND and stop clogging the chat? Some people need to actually get everyone else’s number.

**Sokka**

okay :(((((((((

**Toph**

This is toph.

**Teo**

Toph Beifong?

**Toph**

Yeah

**Teo**

But aren’t you blind? How are you in this chat?

**Teo**

No offense, obviously.

**Toph**

It’s called voice to text, dumbass. I can still do things. 

**Teo**

Gotcha :P

**Aang**

I’m Zuko, and I play Prince Eric!

_Ha ha. Very funny, Aang._ Little did he know, when the real Zuko finally texted, Sokka would probably spontaneously combust. 

**UNKNOWN NUMBER**

very funny, Aang. I’m Zuko.

Sokka wished he could eat his words, because he _did_ feel like he was about to combust, _thank you very much_ . But the unknown number didn’t _have to be_ him, right? Looking over, he felt his face flush as he saw the raven-haired boy focused on his screen— but the telltale blue and gray boxes were noticeably absent. _Phew._ Sokka knew that eventually he would be forced to recognize his number as well as text him about the comings-and-goings of the rehearsal and tech process, but the thought of being able to text the boy at will sent a shiver up his spine. _Come on, Sokka,_ he thought. _Getting butterflies at the fact that you might be able to text him? That’s low, even for you._ He looked down at his phone, steadying his breathing. 

**Aang**

Funny you would say that, Aang.

**Aang**

Especially because I’m actually Zuko.

That one elicits a good chuckle out of Sokka. Looking around, nearly everyone in the cast had sat down in the padded auditorium chairs and were furiously typing or message-reacting away, laughing at the texts as they came in. It was ironic, how they chose to communicate like this despite not being fifteen feet from each other— but hey, he wasn’t going to be a hypocrite here. Sokka laughed and snapped a quick picture of those in his sightline to send to the chat. 

**Sokka**

[Attachment: 1 image]

not a phone in sight. just people living in the moment.

**Suki**

hehe

**Aang**

Good one, Sokka!

-Zuko

Sokka noticed Zuko’s brow furrow as Aang pushed him to his breaking point. It was cute, watching the boy get worked up over an innocent joke played by a sixteen-year-old bald kid. Zuko pushed the newly-shorn fringe out of his face before grumbling something unintelligible to Mai, who rolled her eyes before continuing her own conversation with Ty Lee. 

**UNKNOWN NUMBER**

i swear to everyone that i’m Zuko. 

**Aang**

Nice try, Aang. 

Suddenly, Zuko was shifting in his seat, carefully placing his things on the ground before standing straight up in full view of the rest of the cast. Sokka enjoyed the view at any given time, but felt a twinge of intrigue as he stared at the boy. Clearing his throat, Zuko began to speak.

“My number is (610) 555-0179— since Aang’s decided to play games.” He feigns annoyance to the sophomore, but he isn’t fooling anyone; his fondness for the kid shines through in his every facial expression. 

Aang, giggling, shrugged his shoulders and laughed, clearly called out. Almost hyper-aware of the attention drawn to him, Zuko flushed before grumbling a quick “thank you,” as he sat down again. Sokka found himself grinning like an absolute buffoon at the scene. There was something about the dichotomy between the other boy’s confidence to stand up and yell his phone number to the entire vicinity of high schoolers and being rattled when people actually looked at him was enough daydream fuel for the next three weeks. 

Not only that, but he now had Zuko’s _number._ Now all he needed was a good reason to text him. Racking his brain, he found nothing. There was absolutely nothing that he could text Zuko about without it seeming forced or contrived. _Ugh._ He supposed he’d just have to wait it out. 

_Might as well do something with this last ten or so minutes of free time,_ Sokka thought. He looked through the group chat again, catching up with all of the names that he may have missed in his fixation on the whole _Zuko_ bit. There were far too many people without contact pictures. _Well, that won’t do._ Scrunching his face, he exited out of his messages app and began to search up photos of each of the profileless contacts’ Little Mermaid characters. Of course Katara, Aang, Suki, Toph, and the like wouldn’t have to be their fictional counterparts— _nothing_ would get him to change the terrible photos he has for his best friends. As for everyone else, character/personality accuracy was _key._ Saving two different pictures of Ursula for Ty Lee and Azula respectively was simple; where it was difficult was finding good stills of the smaller characters. Sokka seemed to manage fine after a deep dive on the best-quality Disney fan blogs Google could find. 

After inputting every last mersister, there was only one contact photo left to fill. A quick google search provided Sokka with an abundance of photos of the show’s deuteragonist, which meant that finding a photo should not have been difficult. After all, he was one of the most highly-regarded princes in Disney canon. _The issue is that none of them were right._ None of the pictures captured the gentle awkwardness that Zuko put out on stage. His Eric, despite only being in the initial stages of workshopping and characterization, was something that couldn’t be depicted in _any_ of these pictures— not to mention that _movie_ Prince Eric didn’t hold a candle to Zuko in the looks department. _Whatever._ Sokka chose his personal favorite, one of Eric and his dog (who, to Sokka’s chagrin, was not featured in the stage version) during the storm scene, hair blown back from the wind. Almost immediately when he pressed the “done” icon in the corner of the screen, Bumi had walked in to announce the plans for the day’s rehearsal. 

Big surprise— the main cast is learning harmonies to _Under The Sea,_ while the eels and Ursulas went into the choir room to work on _I Want The Good Times Back._ Sokka isn’t sure why he expected to have anything to do today. The SM books were all done to the best of his ability— he made sure to double and triple-check as to not forget after the previous morning’s disastrous late wake-up. He cleared all of the notifications that he had missed in the past few hours and was now enjoying his new favorite rehearsal downtime activity: staring at Zuko.

He was dressed head-to-toe in black, but he somehow pulled it off. Sokka knew he was wearing straight-legged black pants from seeing him walk in earlier in the day, but they weren’t visible at his current point of view. It was a shame because they framed him nicely. A short-sleeve t-shirt was accessorized with a small double chain gold necklace, a stark contrast to the dark colors of the rest of the outfit. Sokka couldn’t help but get lost in thought as he saw his slender fingers flip through script pages, only startled out of his stupor when an alto belts out an off-key harmony that makes him wish that he hadn’t left his headphones on his dresser this morning. While looking for the source of the aberration, he sees his sister making a similar expression of distaste to no one in particular. As the bridge begins again, he looks from Zuko back down to Katara.

_That’s it._

_Katara_ was the key to getting closer to Zuko. While they’re not currently the best of friends, he’s sure he could throw together some stage manager mumbo-jumbo to convince Katara that a friendship between her and Zuko would translate to a more natural-looking stage romance. And with friendship comes hanging out with each other, right? And if Katara could convince Zuko to hang out at their house, and Sokka ever-so-mysteriously happens to have nothing better to do but spend time with them both, then it wouldn’t be weird if it translated to hangouts _without_ Katara.

_No one could ever doubt that he was the plan guy ever again,_ Sokka thought. _Because this shit was foolproof._

He was so invested in his newfound stroke of genius— and opening a particularly stubborn bag of barbecue chips— that he didn’t even notice Zuko had left his seat until it had already happened. Zuko being gone was enough to blink out of his sad fantasy— _was it even a fantasy if all you were daydreaming about was using your sister as bait to speak to the guy?_

Sokka wasn’t even given enough time to wonder where he had gone, because mere seconds later, a voice spoke up from behind the tech booth, causing him to drop his bag in shock.

“Hey, are you doing anything?” Zuko’s voice echoed. Seeing the orange chips littered along the floor, he dropped to his knees to help Sokka pick up any remaining crumbs. “I’m sorry— I didn’t mean to sneak up on you like that. Azula says I accidentally lurk all the time.”

Sokka was so focused on the fact that _Zuko_ approached _him_ that he barely could find the words to reply.

“Nah, not really.” He said, slowly gaining back his confidence. “And it’s not a problem— don’t worry about it, promise.” 

“Oh.” Zuko stammered. “That’s great, actually. I was wondering if you’d wanna— I mean, if it’s not a hassle to you— but I need someone to run lines with since I’m not in any of the stuff they’re working on today. Would you wanna go to the practice room with me?”

“Yeah! Sure. Whatever.” Sokka’s voice cracks. _Cause nothing’s sexier than hearing someone’s voice involuntarily go up two octaves._ “Just let me grab my script and we’ll head over.” Rifling through his bag, he grabbed his script a little _too_ hastily and shoved his phone in his back pocket. They had only barely crossed the threshold of the practice room door before Sokka plopped down on a stack of soft guitar cases and stretched out, relaxing comfortably on the pile. 

“So,” he began. “Where are we starting?” 

Zuko, still standing, looked down at him strangely— probably due to the fact that Sokka had chosen to use a pile of random pieces of fabric as a makeshift couch— before shaking his head and continuing on. “I was thinking of just starting from the beginning and going through what we could until someone calls us back into rehearsal?” 

“Sounds great,” Sokka countered. “I will flip—” he opened his script, “to page…” rifling through, he quickly realized his mistake. ”Oops, you come in right off the bat, sorry.” He added a sheepish smile. “...then I will turn _back_ to the first page so we can get this ball rolling.” Zuko gives a small laugh in response, and Sokka can feel the warmth bubbling in his chest. 

The general readthrough of the lines goes fairly smoothly— Sokka is _more_ than happy to pull out a plethora of different character voices, and _if_ he makes Grimsby sound absolutely decrepit, it _definitely_ doesn’t mean that it’s a reflection of any residual feelings he may harbor against his sort-of ex. But something in the back of his mind brings a new anxiety— after all, the whole point of this is to help _Zuko_ learn his lines, not have _Sokka_ flirt with self-indulgent caricatures of the entire leading cast. 

“Hey, I just realized I never asked. Are you okay with the voices? Because I can stop if you’d want. Honestly, it’s not a problem whether or not I do them.” 

Zuko looked… surprised by the sudden outburst. “No!” He exclaimed. “Don’t stop— going through the lines would be so boring if you didn’t.” Sokka grinned from ear to ear as the boy continued raving. “Like oh, man, no offense to Teo, but you literally would have kicked ASS as Scuttle. You sure you don’t have any interest in acting?”

Sokka was flattered that Zuko would even think that.“Well yeah, I’m sure it’s cool and all, but I like where I am. Telling people what to do and calling the shots is something I wouldn’t give up for the world. Although there are a few shows that would bring me out of the woodwork, I’m not going to lie.” 

“I’m impressed. That’s pretty humble of you.” 

“It’s not really,” Sokka admitted. “It’s what I love. And the school does give a stipend for an updated stage manager kit every year, and what I love _also_ includes going shopping.”

Zuko gazes back inquisitively. “Isn’t that embezzlement?”

“Not necessarily… I call it _resource management_. The three-wick candles I buy with school money are _resources_ that I use to stage _manage_ in a more effective, stress-free fashion.” Sokka winced, hoping he wasn’t about to be reported and/or exposed for his yearly tradition. _To be fair,_ he thinks. _Bumi doesn’t care, AND this is the longest conversation with Zuko you’ve ever had, so it might actually be worth it._

Luckily, Zuko seems to think of it more as funny than anything else. “Really?”

“Hey, I make good use of the things in my kit, and therefore the school doesn’t have to pay for an adult stage manager to do the things that I do. I say that light embezzlement doesn’t count if you’re basically counting on child labor.” Sokka pointedly left out the fact that his August birthday put him of age and eliminated the “child labor” argument entirely.

“Ha!” Sokka was surprised at the shout of joy that emitted from the other boy’s mouth. “So you _do_ admit it’s embezzlement!”

Sokka was caught. “Yea…” he admitted defeat. “ _Technically_ it is. But enough with that, you’ve got some lines to be practicing, don’t you?”

The readings continued, and with Sokka having Zuko’s approval to go full out on the voices, he gets decidedly _way too into the bit._ At a point in time, he is impassioned to stand up to deliver his parts with the gusto that he believes they should be said. During the Ariel scenes, he bats his eyelashes and flirts despite having no lines to abide by. 

The worst part comes when Sokka realizes that as much as he wants to believe that he’s doing it for Zuko, he’s not. He’s doing it for himself and his _stupid_ crush. 

Unfortunately, this realization dawns on him while he is in motion for the stage direction of Ariel _literally falling into Prince Eric’s arms._

Maybe it was taking his bit too far, but oh _man_ was it worth it. The feeling of Zuko’s arms wrapped around him was frighteningly comforting, despite Zuko’s reddening face giving away his absolute mortification at the scene.

“A bit dizzy— aren’t you?”

“What?” Sokka startled. He _was_ dizzy but hoped it didn’t show on his face; giving away his feelings the first time they actually _talked_ would be a little disconcerting. 

Zuko retaliated with a look of confusion. “It… it was the next line.”

Oh, so Sokka was _stupid_ stupid. “Oh, yeah.” he laughed, trying to wipe the embarrassment off of his face for as long as he possibly could. “Keep going then, sorry.” But Zuko does not _go on._

“Sokka— I quite literally cannot hold you for longer than this,” he mumbles, face still flaming red. _Oh yeah._ He had forgotten that he was still in Zuko’s arms. “You’re going to have to get down eventually—” his sentence was cut off when the last of his grasp finally left the other boy’s hips, causing Sokka to tumble down to the floor. 

_Did it hurt? Yes. But was it worth it? Definitely._

Zuko pauses again. “Oh, god. Are you alright?”

“Yeah. I’m used to being dropped at full force onto a tile floor.” Sokka smiles nonchalantly, reminiscing the times that Toph would use him for wrestling demonstrations during _Les Mis_ rehearsals. “Don’t worry about it.” Grabbing his script, they dive back in.

Time passes by like it’s nothing when he’s with Zuko. About an hour into their spontaneous rehearsal, Sokka is convinced that he could (and should) cut everyone else from the show and just make it a two-man production. Not that he’s anything special, but because _Zuko is enough._

However, that doesn’t mean that there aren’t notes to be given— unfortunately enough, what seems to need the most work is the romance front. 

“Who needs words? A smile says just as much sometimes. It’s...” Zuko barely gets into the opening of the song before Sokka cuts him off. With a sad smile, he does what has to be done.

“It has to be more romantic,” he states matter-of-factly.

“What?” Zuko stammers a response, eyes avoiding Sokka’s. _And if that isn’t the cutest thing Sokka’s seen today._ It takes him a minute for him to come up with a reply of his own that didn’t implicate his crush in the process. 

“For Katara!” _Really? That’s the best thing you could come up with?_ “You know, my sister Katara.” He stammers. “She’s, uh, she’s playing Ariel.”

Sokka didn’t realize how awkward his response truly had been until he saw the bewildered look on the other boy’s face. “I know who your sister is, Sokka.”

_Why would he even say that?_ Of _course_ he knew who Katara was. Not only were they both in drama club together for the past three years— he’s sure they’d had some choir classes together at some point of their high school experience, and Zuko _was_ friends with Aang— the president of the Katara Fan Club. _Whatever. Change the course of conversation._

“But back to what I’m saying; you’d wanna play the romance as you would naturally act in real life. You don’t need to dial it up for the stage unless Bumi says you should. Here— what would you do if I were Mai?” 

“Mai? Why would I be romantic with Mai?”

Sokka stopped cold. Did he read it wrong? Were they not public about their relationship?

“Yeah… I thought you two were, y’know…” he attempts to make a gesture to finish out his sentence, but no cohesive thought comes. 

“You think Mai and I are _dating_?” Zuko laughs in disbelief.

Sokka squeaks out a response that is heavily imbued with both excitement and mortification. “You’re… not?”

“No.” he chuckled. “We’re not. But I understand why you would think that we’re close enough to be— after all, we and Ty Lee grew up together. But people think we’re dating?”

“I’m sure it’s not many people at all but yeah, kinda. I just really assumed from the way you two act.” Sokka admitted. 

“Huh.” Zuko seemed to be lost in thought. “Learn something new every day. I don’t really care if people think it, honestly, but we aren’t dating— nor do I ever see it happening,” he says with a small chuckle. Sokka doesn’t even catch himself doing a quick fist pump to himself until after he finished. “What was that?”

“Nothing!” he replied a little _too_ quickly.

Zuko quirked an eyebrow. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah,” Sokka lied, scratching the back of his head. “I’m just getting over my caffeine high from this morning. The coffee has to stop working at some point, right?” 

“I wouldn’t know. I’m really more of a tea person— if you could even consider me that.” 

“Oh, neat! I’m not necessarily a huge tea guy, but Suki introduced me to this tea place that we get really great boba from before we go to the movies; so I _do_ drink it sometimes.” 

This seemed to get Zuko’s attention. “Do you mean the Jasmine Dragon?”

“Yeah— at least I think so?” The name sounded familiar enough for it to be correct, so Sokka went with it. “Whichever one is right across from the AMC. Have you been there?”

“Sokka.” Zuko laughs. “I work there. My uncle owns it. I’m actually going there right after practice to get a couple of hours in and close up.”

_Note to self,_ Sokka thinks. _Go to the Jasmine Dragon more often._ “Oh, _man,_ tell your uncle he is the first person to ever get me to enjoy the taste of tea to the point where I momentarily forget about coffee.”

“I’ll be sure to let him know.” Zuko grins. “But not in those words exactly— it’ll go to his head.” 

Feeling a vibration in his pocket, Sokka pulled out his phone only to discover that practice was ending in less than ten minutes’ time. 

“Shit— we’re almost out of here.” _Time really flies, huh._ “Wanna head back?”

“Sure,” Zuko says softly. “I just have to grab some homework that I left in my locker beforehand.” Even if this wasn’t an invitation, Sokka sure as hell was going to take it. 

“I’ll come with.” 

Zuko’s locker, apparently, is in the fucking _north pole_ , because they had walked all the way to the other side of the school before stopping.

“ _Man_ ,” Sokka complained. “I didn’t know that classes even existed back here— I thought that this wing of the school was just for freshmen who got lost on the way to the cafeteria to suffer a particularly cruel fate before turning around.” 

“Stop being dramatic.” The other boy rolled his eyes as he carefully turned the lock, popping the door open and grabbing a small black bag. 

“I’m not being dramatic,” Sokka says as they begin their trek back to the auditorium. “First of all, if the lights flickered in this hallway even a _teeny_ bit, all of Hollywood would come pouring into our doors asking to on-site shoot the next horror blockbuster film. Second of all, the fact that you still use your locker as a senior is wild. My locker is right next to the auditorium and I _still_ don’t use it. You can always put your stuff in there if you’d like.”

Zuko seemed to consider his proposition. “Really?” 

Sokka replied easily. “Yeah, man. It doesn’t matter to me, and it seems like it’d be a hell of a lot easier for you. Go crazy.”

“That’d be… nice.” Zuko looks directly into Sokka’s eyes, and he doesn’t know if he could take this any longer. His ears were already starting to pinken by the time they reached the auditorium, and he hoped Zuko didn’t take note of this as he held the door open. Watching Zuko descend down the aisle, Sokka cannot contain his giddiness of the day’s activities. Katara, who was apparently an all-knowing deity, quirked an eyebrow at her brother as she stood outside the tech booth with his stuff already packed up.

“Well, you two were sure gone a long time.” _Ugh. Sisters and their goddamn omnipotence._

“Why did you even know that? Didn’t you have music to learn?” He gasped exaggeratedly. “Were _YOU_ not paying attention?”

Katara, used to Sokka’s usual bullshit, rolled her eyes. “Sokka, it’s _Under the Sea._ “It’s basically a kindergarten prerequisite to learn that song.” _She had a point._ “Give me the keys. I want to drive today. I don’t feel like fearing for my life on a fifteen-minute ride this time.” 

Usually, Sokka would retort that he’s not _that_ bad of a driver, but he was lost in the euphoria of spending a whole three hours with Zuko— or more accurately, lost in the euphoria of falling into his arms for a whole ten seconds. They make their way out to the car, and he flings open the passenger door to throw his schoolbag in the back seat. Katara starts the engine as Sokka realizes his contacts app is still open to the page from before rehearsal started. 

_Zuko._

He wanted to text him. 

He shouldn’t text him. After all, they had just talked for hours. Why would Zuko want even more of him? Would he even have his number saved? Just because Sokka was the kind of guy to save numbers from group chats doesn’t mean Zuko would be too. Did Sokka have a contact picture in Zuko’s phone? What would it be? If Zuko were to see his contact, would he have liked the Eric picture he chose? Would he think it was weird that Sokka had a contact picture for him at all? Would—

He was jolted out of his brief crisis by Katara, who wore a bored expression as she flicked on her turn signal. “Oh my _god,_ Sokka, just text him already!”

Sokka feigned ignorance. “Text who?” 

“You’re really funny, did you know that?” Katara responded, not even needing confirmation to know what Sokka was getting at. “Just man up and send a text instead of staring at his contact card like a weirdo.” 

However, it seems like he doesn’t need to because before he could even exit out of his contacts screen, his phone flashes a notification.

**You Have (1) New Message**

**Zuko**

hey, this is Zuko. i just wanted to say thanks for running lines with me today.

Almost immediately, Sokka’s mind was overwrought with anxieties in an attempt to feign an appropriate response. What does he reply? When should he do it? Should he wait to text back so it doesn’t look like he’s been staring at his contact for the past hour? Or, in his worry, has he already waited too long and missed the window of opportunity? Notwithstanding the _when_ , the issue of _what_ had arisen. Should he keep it casual and send a simple “no prob, man”? Were they on that level of casual? Should he just like the message? No, definitely not. That would make him seem disinterested, and he definitely wanted to keep the conversation going as long as possible. A reaction gif was out of the question— the only people who use those are millennials and his dad, and he didn’t want Zuko to think he was weird. In his hasty effort to qualm his panicked thoughts, Sokka found his brain at a disconnect with his motor skills as he shot off the first solution that had come to his subconscious mind as the most appropriate possible response for the situation at hand. 

**Sokka**

[Attachment: 1 GamePigeon Message]

[Let’s play 8 Ball!]

Not half a second later, Sokka’s mind caught up with his actions, and the voice in his head that said “ _what the hell is wrong with you?_ ” sounded eerily like Toph. 

**Sokka**

sorry that was stupid

**Sokka**

but seriously, it’s no prob, dude. you can repay the favor by not getting yourself sick or injured in the next few months. rehearsals don’t function as well when you have to throw an understudy on. 

**Zuko**

[Attachment: 1 GamePigeon Message]

[Your Turn]

deal. but i won’t make any promises against kicking your ass in this game of pool. 

**Sokka**

you’re on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -I used a random phone number generator for Zuko’s number please do Not call it  
> -I am not being mean to understudies at the end understudies and swings are important and should be appreciated  
> -once again thank you for reading and thank you to bree for editing!!
> 
> also so sorry this is so late! chapter 4 is almost done and I hope the gaps between the chapters will not be that spaced out again (but I can't promise anything, it totally depends on my courseload and work schedule), but thank you SO much to everyone who stuck with it!

**Author's Note:**

> this is basically the first thing i’ve written and posted of my own volition since i was in middle school, so while i’m sure the authorship isn’t the most technically sound, i’m having a lot of fun with it. 
> 
> quick thanks to all of my friends who helped me to develop this idea/answer my questions (especially bree for going through and editing), and thank you all so much in advance for reading— I’m very appreciative of it and would love to hear your thoughts!
> 
> my twitter is @korrasragnarok if you’d like to contact me :)


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